Some mornings you wake up to find the earth is far too inviting not to journey out into.
This morning in Danang, Vietnam was one of those. Walking across the empty street from my hotel I was met with a symphony of purples and pinks, silhouetted palm trees and the rhythmic lapping of the ocean behind.
I walked onto the beach to be met with another surprise.
A large group of middle aged Vietnamese were to enjoy that morning with me. Or rather I’d enjoy the morning with them.
They did their yoga in a most unorthodox fashion. Unsynchronised star jumps, loud, throaty breaths, erratic kicks and bends. Many were easily distracted by star gazing at their surrounds, myself included.
Occasionally though, it worked and they came together in beautiful union.
Tree pose was one of those.
The group stood, bold and connected as a forest of trees, picture perfect against the early morning sky.
Whilst my body wanted to join them and reap the benefits of sunrise yoga, I felt transfixed. Drawn to my nest in the sand from where I could watch and imbibe in the beauty of that moment.
The class finished and in they went. Immersing themselves in the small waves, refreshing and coming out clean and renewed, ready to start the day.
In this I joined them.